Something about when he was in the judge’s house bothered Elvin, sipping bourbon at the Polo Lounge as he retraced each step of the way in and out. The hell was it? Taking a big sip as he remembered, Jesus, the pizza box, and started coughing.

Now something else was bothering him. A little girl with curly blond hair and big seashell earrings next to him at the bar saying, “What’s wrong, sugar?” and patting him on the back. Elvin recovered, took another sip and it went down okay. But now the curly-haired girl was saying, “I haven’t seen you before. You with TAC, working undercover? I love your getup.” Elvin looked at her with the pizza box on his mind and told her to hit the road. She said, “Well, pardon me all to hell,” and slid off the stool.

Two more Jim Beams and the pizza box was nothing to worry about. Only a matter of seeing how others would look at it, cops going in the kitchen, what would they see? An empty pizza box sitting on the counter was all. If the shooter was outside he couldn’t have put it there. By now one of the cops had most likely thrown it in the trash. That out of the way, Elvin wished the cops luck in getting the son of a bitch who’d done the shooting.

Under its other name this place had been popular with cops and Elvin, looking around, believed still was. Cops and guys throwing darts at three boards out in the front part of the room where you came in. The cops were the ones in the suits and ties, dinks from the Sheriff’s Office that wasn’t too far from here. It made Elvin think of his brother Roland’s suits he’d stored in a trunk with mothballs. Maybe he ought to get them out. There were girls liked you looking spiffy and ones that went for the mean and dirty style of dress. Like the little curly-haired blonde or she wouldn’t have come over when he started coughing before.

Elvin had a view of the whole place from where he sat at the back end of the oblong bar, stools on all four sides, a barmaid in the middle, a friendly woman who poured a good drink. It was kind of dark in here. He could see the curly-haired girl though, no trouble, down at the other end with her girlfriend. Elvin waited for her to look this way. When she did, he touched the brim of his hat. That was all it took. Here she came.

“I had something on my mind there before was giving me a hard time.”

“Your job,” the girl said, working her butt up onto the stool. “I understand, sugar, and know what you mean. You married?”

“I was, you might say, the same as married for ten years. Actually to different ones, but I’m free as a bird now.”

“You work undercover, huh?”

Elvin gave her his dirty grin. “I’ll work under your covers anytime you say.”

“Hey, whoa. You might start a little slower if you don’t mind. Since I don’t even know your name.”

“Yeah, but I’m hot to go. I haven’t had none in so long I’m like a young virgin.”

“You are weird. You just got done telling me you were like married. What is your problem?”

“I been away.”

She said, “Uh-oh. You mean you were in jail?”

“Jail, shit, the big time. Honey I was up at Starke.” He got her by the arm before she could swivel off the stool and hunched in close, his hat brim touching her curly head, his eyes on her great big ones, saying, “How’d you like a convict hasn’t done it face-to-face in ten years? Huh, does it sound good to you?” He let go of her arm before she screamed or had a fit and that girl was gone, back to tell the other one her experience. Copfucker’s all she was. That kind, they only went for the mean and dirty look if they knew it was fake.

Maybe her girlfriend was different. Elvin tipped his hat down on his eyes and kept staring, waiting for her to look over, this one kind of red-haired, a mess of it piled on her head. Just then he heard loud voices from out where the guys were throwing darts, some yelling like one of them must’ve hit the bull’s-eye.

Elvin sat up to look, that part of the room lit brighter than in here by the bar. He saw the dart throwers and the heads of people sitting at a few tables out there. He saw a dark-haired girl that looked like… Jesus, it didn’t look like her, it was. It was the little probation officer sitting with a guy wearing a suit, another one of them, except he didn’t look like a cop, he looked like a dink state attorney.

The two of them at one end of a round table talking, looking at each other, not paying any attention to the dart throwers still hollering. Ms. Touchy sat back now and seemed to be laughing at something the dink said. Out having fun after getting shot at. It was the first time Elvin had seen her laugh. He had an urge to go over there and say to her, Well, hey, how you doing? You had a close one there, didn’t you? See her face. Not say another word, walk away… And spend the night in jail, deputies asking what was he doing there, delivering pizza? How come the best things you thought of to say, you couldn’t?

Shit, he’d better not even be seen here. Use that side door before she spotted him.

She said to Gary, “I’m going to tell you what I think. You don’t have to agree with me, but if you look down your nose I’m leaving. Okay?”

“What’s that mean, look down my nose?”

“Cop that typical attitude, I’m only a probation officer. What do I know?”

“Is this some kind of test?”

“In a way, yeah.”

“Have I said anything to give you the impression-”

“Just listen, okay?”

They had been talking about the judge’s wife, Kathy learning things that seemed to back up what she believed and she was anxious to tell him. The guys throwing darts were a distraction at first and she would glance over, but not now.

“I don’t think anyone’s trying to kill the judge.”

“Even if he deserves it?”

“Look, he wants his wife to leave him and she did. He said to you, ‘An alligator walked in and my wife walked out.’ Right? He didn’t send her to Orlando to stay with friends, she walked out.”

“She still could’ve gone to Orlando.”

“Where she went is beside the point. She sees an alligator and that’s it, she takes off. Because when she was a mermaid, which the judge never mentioned to me, she was frightened by an alligator and almost drowned. Now the former mermaid is communicating with a former slave girl named Wanda Grace. The judge wants her to leave because she’s driving him nuts, talking in this little-girl voice, or, so he can be free to fool around, or both. You see what I’m getting at?”

“All I know is she walked out on him.”

“Because of the alligator.”

“Okay.”

“And you believe someone brought it. You’re convinced.”

“For the judge.”

“How do you know it wasn’t for his wife?”

“There’s no reason to think it was.”

“That you know of. Ask Leanne what she thinks.”

“Nobody shot at Leanne.”

“Nobody shot at anybody. Some guy broke a window, with a.22. Is that what you use you want to kill somebody? Lou Falco said the same thing about the alligator. There are better ways to do it.” Kathy sipped her beer, letting him think about it.

“There’s no apparent connection, though, between the alligator and the shooter.”

“Your boss believes there is.”

“Yeah, and if he’s wrong who’s gonna call him on it? You know what you’re saying? Or what I think you are…”

Kathy said, “Yeah, the judge had the alligator delivered knowing it would scare the shit out of Leanne. And it did, it worked.”

“What about the shooter? What’s he got to do with it?”

“I don’t know. Ask him.”

She watched Gary raise his beer and then pause.

“There’s no way I could question Gibbs about it. A judge pulling a stunt like that? I can’t see it.”

Kathy could, but didn’t say anything.